


Most Valuable Player

by Woldy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Bets, Competition, F/F, Quidditch, Snark, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/pseuds/Woldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the best thing about Quidditch: the sight of Pansy Parkinson on her knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Valuable Player

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Qurinas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qurinas/gifts).



> Written for Quirinas for the Informal HP Femslash Exchange. I hope you enjoy it! The title and Quidditch references will make more sense after reading this post: [The Comprehensive Quidditch Statistics Compendium"](http://www.rodriguezandgrandersonaredead.com/all-posts/features/the-comprehensive-quidditch-statistics-compendium-3). Many thanks to justamuggle for betaing :-)

Everyone at Hogwarts knows three things about Ginny Weasley: she's an excellent Quidditch player; that, like her twin brothers, she combines humour with a capacity for mighty vengeance; and she's in love with Harry Potter. Only two of those things are true.

In thirty minutes Ginny plans to prove her superiority on the Quidditch field again. It's not a surprise when Parkinson saunters over to her table.

"What's this, the condemned woman's last meal? Hope you're enjoying it, because Slytherin are going to _flatten you_."

"If you're trying to psych me out, you'll need better lines than that," Ginny replies, and Parkinson's eyes glitter at the challenge.

"I'm saving my best ones for the game. I live in the hope of taunting you right off the broom."

"Bring it on," says Ginny loudly, above the catcalls of her housemates. More quietly she adds, "Same stakes as usual?"

"Of course," Parkinson says, tossing her hair. "I look to watching you... lose."

"We'll see about that," replies Ginny, and Parkinson stalks away.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

  
It all began with a collision in the Charms corridor during the week after the Quidditch tryouts. The day was grey and ordinary-seeming, filled with her usual succession of classes, and Ginny was chatting with her classmates between Charms and Potions. The sudden blow to her shoulder almost knocked her down, and Ginny's bag and books scattered over the flagstones.

"Oh, sorry," a voice drawled with obvious insincerity, and Ginny looked up into the face of Pansy Parkinson.

Ginny said the first thing that came to mind: "Lucky for you I'm not holding a beater's bat. Although your nose looks like you've been hit by one already."

"Please," Parkinson sneered, "Your aim is almost as bad as your brother's -- that's what comes from being _born in a bin,_ I suppose."

"Get a new line, won't you?" Ginny said scornfully.

"All right," said Parkinson, crossing her arms. "I bet you fifty galleons that Gryffindor loses the first game."

Ginny hesitated and a smirk spread over Parkinson's face. "Oh, I forgot, your family doesn’t have two galleons to rub together."

Ginny glared and raised her chin, fingers tightening around her wand. That stung, although she was damned if she'd let the bitch know it.

"All right, I'll bet you a sexual favour of the winner's choice that Gryffindor will lose," Parkinson drawled. "I hear from Corner that sexual favours are something you know plenty about."

"Done," Ginny agreed instantly, as the rational part of her brain sputtered _What? What?!_ "I didn't know you liked me so much. You coulda just asked me to Hogsmeade."

"As if!" Parkinson shot back, and flounced away.

"Get ready to lose, Parkinson!" she called to the retreating back.

"What a cow!" said Demelza, beside her.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, bending to pick up her books and schoolbag.

"You won't really go through with it, will you?"

"I might if we win. Could be fun to see Parkinson on her knees."

"But, ewwww!" Demelza's nose scrunched up with distaste. "I mean, Parkinson..."

"Just more incentive to beat them, isn't it?" Ginny said, with a shrug.

Looking back on it, Ginny wonders if Parkinson regretted that offer because the incentive had made her the best player on the team. In time, that incentive would win Gryffindor the cup.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

Most players say there's nothing better than the feeling of winning a match and a year ago Ginny would have agreed. Now, as the Snitch flutters feebly in her hand and the whole of Gryffindor house roars beneath her, all she can think about is the prize she'll get later.

She dives, steering towards the Slytherin stands, and can just make out a familiar black bob above a Slytherin scarf amongst the crowd as the broom flashes past.

 _Oh, yes._ This is a victory she's going to remember.

First, of course, there are other things to get out of the way: congratulations, the obligatory hugs and shoulder-clapping, and then a much-needed shower. The moment Ginny lands she's engulfed in screaming well-wishers, and she almost has to beat them off to reach the changing room.

Once there, she lingers in the shower, letting the hot water run down her back as she takes a moment to savour the prospect of Parkinson paying up.

"See you in the Common Room for the party?" Demelza calls.

"Yeah, I'll be there soon," Ginny shouts back, above the rush of the water.

The changing room door swings shut and then there's silence. Ginny steps out of the shower, dripping on the floor as she walks across to her locker. She's in the process of towelling her hair dry when the door bangs again and a voice drawls, "Ready, Weasley?"

"Always," Ginny says, lowering the towel.

"Naked from the start. People might think you'd been looking forward to this."

"You're the one who offered," Ginny says, turning to face Parkinson.

Parkinson has applied fresh red lipstick, and her robe is unbuttoned at the front to reveal a skirt that's even shorter than usual. Ginny takes a moment to look slowly down, and then back up Parkinson's body, her gaze lingering on the bare expanse of thigh and the way Parkinson's jumper is stretched tight over her breasts. Parkinson must have dressed this morning with the expectation that she'd lose the bet, and the thought of that takes Ginny's breath away.

"What do you want?" Parkinson asks, raising an eyebrow. Everything about her is cocky, from the drawl to the jut of her hip and the angle of her jaw. It's ridiculous how sexy Ginny finds that.

"The usual," she says. "I like you on your knees."

Parkinson walks forwards, heels clicking on the tiles. She pauses for a second in front of Ginny then lowers herself to a kneeling position.

"Give me the towel," Parkinson orders.

"Maybe I want to watch you walk away stiffly," Ginny says, holding it just out of reach.

"If you want this to be good then I need to be comfortable," Parkinson retorts, and Ginny makes her wait for a couple of heartbeats before handing it over. She watches Parkinson settle the towel under her knees.

"Comfortable, now?"

"The only good thing about doing this is that it shuts you up," Parkinson says, palming Ginny's hip. "Open your legs."

Ginny widens her stance, and Parkinson leans in, nipping at her inner thigh.

"I've told you not to bite," says Ginny, tangling a hand in Parkinson's hair. Parkinson looks up at her through dark eyelashes, smirking.

"And I've told you that I do this my way," Parkinson replies and bites Ginny's thigh again, a little sharper, as if proving her point.

Then Parkinson spreads Ginny open with one hand and licks her, and Ginny's hand tightens instinctively in the dark hair.

"Fuck," Ginny gasps as Parkinson's tongue sweeps back and forth, hot and slick. It's shockingly, electrifyingly good; enough to make her weak at the knees. Soon, it'll just be Parkinson's grip that's holding her up.

"You're dripping wet," Parkinson remarks, between licks.

"Been a long time since we did this," Ginny mutters.

"Surely you're fucking someone else?"

"Less talking, more cunnilingus," Ginny says, hoping that Parkinson doesn't notice her blush.

She's not fucking anyone else, actually. This thing with Parkinson is more fun than any of the groping and snogging she's done with boyfriends, although she'd never admit that out loud.

Parkinson's grip on her hip tightens as she resumes, her tongue flickering into a rhythm. When Ginny sways for a moment, Parkinson just presses her back against the lockers and doesn't skip a beat.

This is the best thing about Quidditch: the sight of Pansy Parkinson on her knees, mouth buried in Ginny's cunt. Goals and snitch-catches don't come close.

"Oh yes," Ginny chants, as Parkinson's tongue plays over her clitoris. Her awareness narrows and narrows until she's not conscious of anything except the pressure between her legs. "Hell, yes!"

For an instant, Parkinson's teeth scrape over sensitive flesh, making her gasp, then Parkinson releases her grip on Ginny's hip and slides two fingers inside her.

"Please!" Ginny gasps, because while begging isn't dignified, that's outweighed by just how much she _needs this_.

"Say it again," Pansy demands, voice muffled.

Ginny arches, pressing herself onto Pansy's fingers, and says "Please!"

Pansy's fingers thrust deeper, then she's sucking Ginny's clit, and Ginny comes so hard that the world goes white behind her eyelids.

By the time Ginny catches her breath, she's sitting on the floor and Pansy has moved away. Ginny braces a hand on the locker as she gets to her feet, legs still wobbly. Odd how she can walk after three hours on a broom, but ten minutes with Parkinson turns her to jelly.

Pansy is standing in front of the mirror, using Ginny's comb to coax her hair back into some kind of order.

"You're sexier tousled," Ginny tells her and Pansy looks back over her shoulder.

"Careful, Weasley. That was nearly a compliment."

"Nearly," Ginny agrees. "You coming back to school next year?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'm planning my Quidditch strategy. I want to know if I'll still have the incentive."

Parkinson's lips quirk. "I don't think I want to give Gryffindor any more advantages, but perhaps we can make another bet."

"Yeah? Maybe one that you've got more chance of winning?"

"That almost sounds like an offer, Weasley," Parkinson says, turning to face her. "I didn't know you liked me so much. You could have just asked me to Hogsmeade."

"You wish," Ginny says, but she's smiling, and Pansy smiles back.


End file.
